


Hooked Up

by PartnersInFanfiction



Series: Hooked Up [1]
Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan (2003), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lime, Peter Pan Being an Asshole, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3602817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartnersInFanfiction/pseuds/PartnersInFanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy, a selective mute with a dark secret as to why she is what she is goes to Kensington Gardens with her sister, where they meet Peter Pan and get whisked away to Neverland. Lucy meets the one and only Captain James Hook, who takes an unexplainable interest in her. Can he get her to speak? Can she prove he's not a bad guy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Peter Pan

            “Are we there yet?” Ella groaned.

            I checked the map. It said to turn. Still holding her hand, I turned and she did the same. After a few more steps, we made it to a point of interest that was the only reason I wanted to go to England at all. We stood before a circular platform that led to the famous Peter Pan statue in Kensington Gardens. It was quite a sight. Not as big as the clothespin statue at home in Philadelphia, that’s gigantic, but bigger than the Rocky statue that used to scare Ella. After some staring at it, Ella ran up to it and climbed up the decorated platform to stand by the figure in a position about to play the pipe. I smiled at her as she looked around, her face expressing wonder. She was perfect. This moment was perfect. I didn’t really want it to end. I didn’t want to go back to Grandma’s house with my so-so parents, pushy grandparents and downright evil uncle Rick, the reason I hadn’t spoken at all for almost six years. Ella looked down and saw a bronze fairy sitting at the edge of the platform bronze Peter Pan stood upon. “I wish that were a real fairy,” she said. “I wish she would pop out of the shell and take us to Neverland.”

            That sounded awesome. I took out my phone, opened a certain app and typed _me too_. The app read it aloud.

            “Do you believe in fairies, Lucy?” Ella asked.

            I wish I did. I really wished. I just couldn’t. I made my iPhone say for me _yes._ It made Ella smile, which lifted my spirits. “They say clapping will make dying fairies come to life,” she said. She bent and almost slipped. She held onto Peter Pan’s arm to save herself as I ran closer to spot her better. She was able to sit at the edge of the platform now and held her hands near the fairy. She began to clap and, of course, nothing happened. She looked up at me. “C’mon, you, too.”

            It would make my sister happy, so I did. I continued as long as she did until we heard some bells or something. We stopped and I looked back to see some glittering light traveling towards us. With it was a silhouette of something…some _one_ flying. I heard Ella gasp. “Lucy…it looks like Peter Pan.”

            That, I couldn’t and wouldn’t believe. That was crazy. We both were hallucinating, I decided. “Peter!” Ella shrieked, waving both her arms. “Peter Pan, over here!”

            The sparkles and the silhouette came from the lake across us, flew over the gate leading to the statue and stopped below the steps. I got a better look at the silhouette—a boy, with a mop of yellow hair, green eyes that matched his clothes made of more leaves than fabric, and next to him was a winged little figure with a short green dress and blonde hair up in a bun. Her body sent off a gold sparkly aura, leading me to think she was a fairy, but that wasn’t possible. Ella’s face, I saw when I took a look, was priceless—her mouth was about as open as it went and so were her hazel eyes.

            “A lotta people have tried to make that thing come to life,” the boy said. “It doesn’t work.”

            Because I had been silent for a lot of my young life, I didn’t say anything. Because Ella was totally awestruck, she couldn’t say anything. So the boy did. “Who are you two?”

            I looked at Ella. She managed to say, “I-I’m Ella Pennington…” She pointed to me. “This is my big sister, Lucy.” She dropped her hand and it bounced against her pants over her leg back to rest. “W-who are you?”

            “Peter,” he said. After ducking his head and torso, holding his right arm close to his stomach, he continued, “Pan.” He stood up straight and pointed to the sparkly light. “That’s Tinkerbell.”

            I squinted a little to see her features better. She had a snooty expression on her tiny face.

            “You’re really Peter Pan?” Ella squealed. He modestly nodded his head. “Wow,” we’re huge fans!” She hopped off the statue and looked at me. While looking back at the boy who claimed to be Peter Pan, she said, “Well, she’s more of a Captain Hook fan.”

            He narrowed his eyes a little and bent back a little, looking at me like I was the weirdest thing ever. A lot of people thought so. Ella said, grabbing his attention, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

            “I heard you clapping while I was on my way to visit Jim and his sons,” he said. “Had to stop you from wasting your time.”

            “Jim who?” Ella asked. “And who are the sons?”

            I wrote on my phone, ignoring Peter staring at a seemingly unfamiliar sight, _I think he means J.M. Barrie and the Llewelyn Davies boys._

The voice mispronounced the last names I wrote but apparently Peter understood. “Yes…” He pointed to my phone. “what’s that?”

I looked at Ella. She said, “She doesn’t talk much, so she uses her cell phone to say stuff.”

“What’s a cell phone?” he asked, his voice matching the curious but weirded out expression on his face.

“It’s a thing that you carry around and lets you talk to people when they’re far away,” Ella explained as I let him look at it. “Hers does all sorts of stuff.”

“Like what?”

She replied as I pressed a guitar app and waited it for it to load, “It plays and makes music, movies, has games and…”

I plucked a virtual string, then another and then started to play the theme song from one of her favorite TV shows, _Rugrats_. Our first favorite was _Diff’Rent Strokes_ and I knew the theme song by heart but couldn’t play it. So I played _Rugrats_. Once she figured out what I was playing, she gasped and smiled. I smiled back and Peter looked amazed. When I finished, Peter said, “The Lost Boys should really like to hear that.”

Ella took a hint. She took a few steps closer and said, “Are you gonna take us to Neverland?”

“If you want,” he said.

I noticed Tinkerbell didn’t seem too happy about this but Ella grabbed my attention before I could take a better look. “Lucy, Lucy, we’re going to Neverland!”  
            I still sorta thought this was a figment of my and Ella’s imagination or just some dream, but Neverland sounded super awesome. But I remembered we had to fly. I’m not good in the sky. I pointed up and then opened my mouth, sticking out my tongue a little and making a scratching motion with my index finger an inch away from my tongue.

            “Oh, that’s right,” Ella murmured. She turned to a confused Peter. “S-she gets airsick. Really airsick.”

            That was a way of putting it. I never got motion sickness, but being in airplanes or flying reminded me of a very dark period almost six years ago that led to my eternal deliberate silence. I wanted to go, but I feared flying would give me what I diagnosed myself as post-traumatic stress, which could lead to vomiting. Or crying. It did a few hours ago. “Don’t worry,” Peter said. “We can go slow.”

            Ella turned back at me. “C’mon, Lucy, _please_?”

            I realized a trip no more painful than the plane ride to London would help me escape Uncle Rick, my grandparents trying to make me talk and my parents having a lot of sex because they’re on vacation. I gave him a thumbs-up and a smile. Peter Pan went about to grab Tinkerbell but she started to fly away. Peter levitated a few feet to catch her. He flew a little towards us and shook her over both our heads. “Now just think happy thoughts, and follow me to Neverland!”  
            I put my phone back into the pocket of my black Blugengel Monument hoodie. When I looked up, Ella was giggling as she flew up to Peter. She looked down at me and called, “C’mon, Lucy! Puppies! Skittles! Blue Angel!”

            She meant _Bl_ _utengel_. None of that did it for me. I closed my eyes and forced thoughts that made me the happiest but didn’t fix any of my problems. _Uncle Rick being convicted. Death penalty. Freedom. Going to Neverland. Pirates._ I felt someone grab my ankle. “Not that high, you’ll reach the ceiling,” a boy’s voice laughed. I opened my eyes and saw Peter Pan holding my ankle to stop me from going higher. He pulled me down and said when he let go of me, “Okay, follow me!”

            “Not too fast!” Ella called as she followed Peter and Tinkerbell. I had to speed up to make it closer to them. It was hard to think of more thoughts that would keep me up. I mixed in some actually nice stuff with the evil things I wanted to happen to my uncle, and that kept me close to them. We flew above the sky and into what seemed to be space, because of all the stars and planets around. I couldn’t concentrate on them. I was holding my breath but I still felt able to breathe. Peter slowed down a little to be closer to me. “Why don’t you talk, anyway?”

            If he expected a verbal answer for that, he was screwed. My hands were too busy helping me fly to pull out my phone and tell him or improvise sign language to get it across. I didn’t have a truthful answer for him, anyway. So I let Ella answer. “No one really knows. She’s not doing anything bad, she’s still the same Lucy, but…different.”

            That summed up her innocent point of view, which was good enough for Peter. He looked forward and said, “Almost there! Grab my ankle, Lucy!”

            His foot was dirty and a little smelly, I noticed as Tinkerbell gestured to it like a chick on a game show presenting a prize. I’d seen grosser things. I willingly grabbed it and he called, “Ella, grab onto Lucy’s!”

            Lucy’s hand hooked onto the inside of one of my Converse hightops with stars printed on it. She pulled a little to use her other hand to go inside the hem of my jeans to grab my ankle, and then she let go of the hand that was in my shoe. “Okay!” She called.

            We were flying against a heavy wind that blew my hood off when I tried to put it on with my free hand. He shouted over the sound of the wind, “Whatever happens, don’t…let…go!”

            Ella screamed like we were on a roller coaster as we flew past the stars and planets until it got darker and the stars became silver dots on a glossy black surface. We slowed down and I let go of Peter’s ankle as Ella let go of mine. Peter turned to face us and touched the surface. It was water. I looked up and saw the sky. The water was reflecting the sky that became lighter and lighter as we flew closer to an island. An island I had seen in different shapes on many different screens, but imagined in only one book. It was exactly like my imagination but it was right there and I was coming closer and closer to it. “Here we are,” Peter Pan said. “Let’s head home.”

            They were flying a little too fast. The wind was flying inside my hoodie and I remembered what I felt while in the air that caused me to become mute. I lost all my happy thoughts and began to plummet onto the shore.

 


	2. Neverland

            The good news is, I fell on a softer part of the sand and the water didn’t touch me and I didn’t break any bones. The bad news is, my head was hit on a rock and before I could get up, I started to throw up. The air got me overwhelmed. If Uncle Rick hadn’t struck, I’d be fine. The water washed most of the chunks I blew away. I threw the rock I fell upon at a wave that washed away all of it. I stood up, brushed the sand off me and felt for my phone. It wasn’t there. I groaned and looked both ways. Just sand and rocks. Then I heard a smooth, British-accented voice say, “Pardon me, miss,” I gasped and turned my head to see a man. He had long dark brown curls to his shoulders and blue eyes of a certain shade I’d never seen before. He wore a dark red poet shirt and vest, black breeches and brown boots. He had a handsomely rugged appearance and although he was around my ugly and evil Uncle Rick’s age, he was…I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t. He continued, raising his right arm, “I believe you dropped this.”

My phone rested onto a sideways-turned hook, rather than a right hand. No scratches on the screen or solar panels that charged the battery. That was cool. But I focused on what was carrying it. A hook. I imagined this guy before, but before I did, J.M. Barrie did. He fit the description of Captain James Hook. The _handsome countenance_ , the as far as I was concerned so far _elegance of diction_. I wasn’t afraid. I was never afraid of pirates. I was delighted by them. Turned on by some. This one…even if I did speak then, I couldn’t. I took my phone and hurried to the talking app. When it opened, I typed in, _Thank you very much, sir_ and it read aloud.

He didn’t seem to understand it, though. “What, if I may ask, is that…thing?”

 _It’s an iPhone_ , I made the phone say. I looked up and around. I was in Neverland. He didn’t have to know what the hell a cell phone was, less alone an iPhone. _It’s a communication device that also is my voice._

“Your voice?” he repeated, genuinely curious but sounding a hell of a lot better than the robotic voice I used since I got the device.

I nodded and then pressed a button that said automatically, and I showed him, _My name is Lucy Pennington. I am a mute and I hope you’ll be able to converse with me using this._

He wasn’t staring at what I was showing him. He was looking at me. Not like I was an aberration, but cool or something. I nervously typed, _I think I know who you are._

“Oh?” he replied. “And who do you think I am?”

I gave a little smile up at him as I typed, _You’re Captain James Hook, aren’t you?_

He stepped back only with his left foot to bow near his right foot. “At your service, _Miss Pennington_.”

I hadn’t heard that before. Ever. I had heard and preferred _Lucy_ and _Lucinda,_ but often I was _Freak, Dumb, Retard, Cheater_. This courteousness from a _guy_ , no less, was completely foreign. I appreciated it. But it was weird. When he stood up, I held out my left hand for him to shake with his working hand. With my other, I typed, _Just Lucy, please_.

He took it as the phone spoke for me, but rather than shaking it, he turned it parallel to the ground, brought it to his lips and gently kissed it. Another foreign courteousness from a _guy_. I didn’t know how to react as he let it go and purred, “A pleasure, Lucy.”

I felt myself blush a little. I didn’t know what to type. I heard bells coming closer and closer and saw a gold sparkly light come to me. Tinkerbell. I swiftly typed in, _Hi, Tink._

She spoke in squeaks and squeals but sounded eager. She pointed up to the forest and I guessed she wanted to take me to Peter. I looked at Captain Hook and he looked annoyed. I typed in, _I guess I need to go. See you around, Captain._

Just as my phone said that, Tinkerbell pulled on my hair. I thought about how intrigued and flattered I was by this guy, forgetting to do a reality check because Tinkerbell was flying so fast and tugging on my hair that I needed to speed up so she wouldn’t tear it from its follicles. After some anxiety-free flying over trees, we reached a spot with the trees around in a circle so there was more open land. She moved way to quickly down and I fell on a rock… _again._

“Lucy!” I heard. As I sat up and groaned as I rubbed the spot my head hit, I saw Ella running out of a tree, if that’s possible, with a few boys of all sizes but all under the age of ten in dirty clothing. I smiled at Ella as she hugged me and we closed our eyes. “We were so worried,” she breathed.

“She’s not like I expected,” a Cockney voice said.

“Me neither,” another voice replied.

I opened my eyes to see the boys surrounding me and looking at me like I was a dead person they were about to poke with a stick.

Ella said, “Boys, this is my big sister, Lucy.”

Two identical boys leaned closer and one said, “What’s that on your nose?”

“And your hair?” the other one added.

So I had a nostril piercing, two standard piercings on each ear and a helix piercing on both ears, and my hair was dyed Vampire Red with Manic Panic Semi-Permanent Hair Dye. That seemed to be completely new to them.

“She has a few piercings,” Ella said casually. “She’s not an evil pirate or anything.”

Peter flew closer and the boys moved for him to join the circle. “I heard that _Captain Hook_ was trying to lure you to your death,” he said, kneeling by me as the boys gasped. “Are you quite all right?”

I nodded. I opened the app and wrote, _He was really nice. It didn’t seem like he’d try to kill me. We just introduced ourselves. No harm in that_.

The boys all looked bewildered by my iPhone, as everyone I met that day was. Well, Captain Hook didn’t seem awestruck by it, but by _me._ Thinking that way was selfish, I told myself, and stopped thinking about him. “We’ll protect you, Lady Lucy,” an absolutely precious little boy said. “If you’ll be our mother.”

My mouth opened a little. I looked at Ella and she said, “If you can take care of me like you have forever, you can take care of them, can’t you?”

It could be true. Perhaps I was qualified. But I was seventeen. I’d definitely do a better job than the sluts on MTV but…I was seventeen. I made my phone say, _I don’t know if I can. I mean, I’m more of a babysitter than a mom._

“That’s good enough,” one of the boys said. “We hear you’re a great guitarist.”

“And pianist,” someone added.

I shrugged. I had mad skills on my phone. I memorized a lot of songs for the piano and guitar that I could do on my phone, but there was one I hadn’t played in a long time that I preferred to do on a real piano. I didn’t want to think about it then. I made my iPhone say, _If you take it easy on me, I guess I can try._

They all cheered and all tried to hug me at the same time but didn’t settle for a big group hug. I couldn’t hear anyone’s name over all the chattering so I guessed I’d learn in time. When they were done, I made my phone say, _Someone help me up._

The identical boys took both of my hands and a chubby but adorable boy pushed my back as the twins pulled me up. I sighed and smiled when I was back on my feet and then Ella said, “Can you play us a song?”

That sounded pretty fun. But I still couldn’t talk. I made my iPhone say, _Sure, but no singing._

“That’s good enough!” Ella exclaimed. “Let’s go inside.”

The twins hurried me into the tree they came from and Peter pulled a lever that made a part above the roots open. The chubby one pushed me in and I fell down a slope to find the inside of a hollow tree. All the other boys, Peter and Ella fell in other sides, laughing the whole way. It was adorable. The one with the most Cockney voice came to me and said, “Come on, Mother! Let’s get you to your chair!” I followed him to an intricately decorated throne-like chair with multicolored feathers sticking out the back. It wasn’t very comfortable but it was nice. The kids, including Ella, sat around me like I was a teacher doing storytime. Peter, who surprised me when he spoke because he was behind me and I didn’t notice it, said, “I guess you won’t sing. You’re not good at it?”

I shrugged. I had no idea after six years of silence. But Ella was fantastic. I typed in the talking app, _Ella, when you recognize a song, why don’t you sing it?_

She smiled and nodded. I typed in, _Have a seat, Peter_ , and he sat on a rock near me. I opened the piano app and started to play _Castle on a Cloud_ from Les Miserables. I was in the orchestra for an adaptation I did in tenth grade, and Ella played Cosette because they needed a tiny and adorable little girl to do young Cosette. She remembered the part because when it was time for her to sing, she sang. “ _There is a castle on a cloud…I like to go there in my sleep…aren’t any floors for me to sweep…not in my castle on a cloud. There is a room that’s full of toys…there are a hundred boys and girls…nobody shouts or talks too loud…not in my castle on a cloud. There is a lady all in white…holds me and sings a lullaby…she’s nice to see and she’s soft to touch. She says,_ ” and she whispered this, “Cosette, I love you very much.”  She continued to sing, “ _I know a place where no one’s lost…I know a place where no one cries…crying at all is not allowed…not in my castle on a cloud._ ” After almost three years, she still remembered it! I was proud, and everyone else was too because they clapped.

I played some more and Ella sang everything she could. After what seemed like hours, my battery began to die and the boys seemed to get tired. I opened the talking app and said, _Okay, time for bed._

They all whined and moaned and I typed while making a stern face, _Come on, boys and Ella, it’s probably really dark out, it’s time to sleep. Besides, I need to charge my phone._

As I tucked them in their hammocks and makeshift beds one at a time, I learned their names. There was Tootles, Nibs, Slightly, Curly and the Twins, who told me to address them that way. They were all in the stories I heard about Neverland and Peter Pan, so it was easy for me to remember them. I put Ella into a bed we were to share and while I tucked her in, she said, “Isn’t this amazing, Lucy? We’re in Neverland. We don’t have to deal with any of our stupid family ever again!”

That sounded wonderful. I kissed her forehead and she went right to sleep. I then approached Peter, who was already reclining in his hammock. I made my phone say, _Peter, I have a question. I’m seventeen, am I a stupid grown-up or still a kid to you?_

He shrugged. “You’re good enough to be a child like the rest of us. Until you’re eighteen. But that won’t happen while you’re here.”

 _You do realize that all parents are adults,_ I made my iPhone say. _Babysitters can be any age. I’m not a mother. I’m a babysitter. I’m your babysitter._

“I don’t need one,” he yawned.

 _That’s how a man talks,_ my iPhone said blankly. But if I could speak, I’d scoff.

He glared at me. “Maybe I’m just a _big_ boy. Whatever. Good _night_.” He turned the other way.

I sighed and went to my bed. A candle was lit by it and the solar panels picked up the light to charge my phone. I couldn’t sleep, though. I kept thinking about my brief but intriguing encounter with Captain Hook. I had seen many versions of him, most of which portrayed him as an ugly douchebag. I pictured him gentlemanly but evil, but the evil had no effect on his appearance. I wanted to see him again. But I didn’t think that would sit right with my newfound sons…no, babysit-ees. I put my hood over my head and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	3. The Kidnapping of the Lost Children and their Babysitter

            “Mother! Mother!” I heard Curly shriek. I opened my eyes and saw Ella shaking me awake and Curly standing by the bed. “We’re going hunting! Won’t you join us?”

            I got my phone. It was fully charged. I opened the talking app and pressed a button that automatically said _yes_. Curly pulled me up with great force and I followed the eager boys out of the tree and into the light. The boys and Ella arranged in a single-file line that seemed to be from youngest to oldest, Peter being the oldest. Ella was between one of the twins and Curly. I caught up with Peter and Tinkerbell and wrote, _So, where are we going?_

“Into the woods,” Peter said. “There will be berries and animals for us to eat.”

            I wasn’t a vegetarian—I ate meat, but I didn’t like knowing whom I was eating. I had my iPhone say, _How about you and the boys take care of the animals, and I and whoever wants to come will take care of the berries?_

            “Okay,” he replied. He stopped, turned his head back and said to the boys, “Who wants to go with Lucy to get berries?”

            The twins, who were each carrying a basket, said in unison, “We do!”

            “I’ll come,” Ella said.

            Peter looked at me and pointed to the left. “The best berries are over there.” He reached into his belt and pulled out one of three knives. “For protection.”

            I gave him a two-fingered salute. Everyone in front of Ella kept going, leaving me with the twins and my sister. We proceeded to the left and Ella said, “Hey, Lucy, can you play a song from your iPod?”

            I opened my music library and handed my phone to her. She picked _Daydream Believer_ by The Monkees and after a few minutes got the twins to sing the bridge with her. I wanted to join them, but I didn’t have the strength.

            We found rows and rows of bushes and trees sprouting beautiful and perfectly ripe fruit. We filled the basket—the twins picking grapes, blueberries, strawberries and raspberries from their assorted bushes while I jumped and hacked off the best apples, oranges and bananas from the trees they sat upon with the knife Peter gave me. Both of our baskets were filled above the brims. I made my iPhone say, _How about a little snack while we’re here?_ I gave everyone a banana and split two oranges in half so the twins shared one and Ella and I shared one. I put _The Best of the Monkees_ on shuffle as Ella and the twins talked and asked me yes, no or I don’t know questions that I didn’t need the phone for. By the time the album was finished, I heard footsteps coming. We all stood up to find not Peter and the lost boys, but a gang of men of all shapes and nationalities, and my babysit-ees tied together in rope. A round-shaped individual with a full white beard in a dirty faded blue and white striped shirt, brown pants and brown jacket a little too small for him, round glasses and a red beanie approached us. I had visualized him before. But I was too disturbs by my babysit-ees’ cries to remember who he might be. “I’m very sorry, miss, but we have orders to capture you and your sons.”

            I couldn’t whip out my phone. A man covered in warts wearing normal low-ranking pirate crew clothes tied my hands together. He tied me in front of Ella, who was crying in fear, and the twins were tied behind her. I looked back at Ella and mouthed, _It will be okay._ She still cried, but I remained brave. This wasn’t as absolutely terrifying as stuff Uncle Rick did to me. But I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I attempted to visualize the music video for _Reich Mir Die Hand_ by Blutengel. It was pretty intense and creepy, but not as real as this. I closed my eyes and walked, trying to recall the lyrics that helped me learn German. _Einsam irrst du durch die kalte Nacht, auf der Suche nach Unendlichkeit. Getrieben von der Gier die in dir wächst und deine Seele Stück für Stück zerstören will._ In English, it’s something like y _ou wander through the cold lonely night, searching for infinity. Driven by the greed that grows in you and your soul wants to destroy piece by piece._ It kept me breathing. I was okay. But then I was mercilessly tossed up and landed on a deck of a ship. I looked around and saw Ella and my babysit-ees being pushed near a pole by the men who kidnapped us. I was being held by a pale fellow who looked a little like a biker Lex Luthor wearing sunglasses with silver studs around the black lenses and a black military-style hat. “What do we do with ‘er? She outta go first,” he said to the round guy.

            “Cap’n said he’d be up here,” he replied. “Iono. I’ll get him, you bring ‘er to the plank.”

            He dragged me to an opening on the rails around the decks. It was a long strip of wood that led straight to the depths of the ocean. He was going to do something I could have done myself in a few weeks. It’d be more comfortable if I did it when I planned to. He aimed his gun at my heart and forced me to walk backwards to my death. I didn’t want to die like _this._ I fell off but didn’t scream over the long way. But I heard Ella wail, “Lucy, no!” until I hit the water.

            I’m not a bad swimmer. If my hands weren’t tied, I could rise again, climb up and beat the shit out of those men and save my sister and babysit-ees. But not only were my hands tied, but I saw figures of topless pale women with fish tails for legs. They were dragging me down and I was running out of the little breath I saved. The last thing I can remember was someone scaring them away and bringing me back to the surface. I passed out before I could realize who it was. It wasn’t Peter, though.

 

 


	4. Captain Hook

 

            _“God damn you,_ Smee _! Did I ever order you to have them walk the plank without me?”_

_“U-uh, n-no, sir—“_

_“They weren’t to walk the plank until Pan came to rescue them! What is this lass doing with them, anyway?!”_

_“S-she w-was picking fruit with the twins and that little girl.”_

            I opened my eyes to find myself on a chair, but I was too weak to stay sitting up. I fell against a desk and coughed up some salt water. I pushed on the desk to get myself sitting up again to find the round individual and a familiar face talking across the desk. They were staring at me. I pulled out my phone, it was a little wet but my waterproof case kept it intact. I opened the talking app and pressed a button that made it say simply and plainly, _hi_.

            The familiar face was Captain Hook, I realized when my eyes adjusted to the room lit by candles. He looked at the round individual and said, “Leave us. And take them back before Pan shows up.”

            “Y-y-yes, sir,” he squeaked, and left. Captain Hook turned to me and said, “You’re quite lucky I saved you in time, my dear. The mermaids would have kept you down there until you died.”

            I typed in, _Thank you so much, Captain. And it’s good to see you again._

“Of course, Miss Pennington,” he said. Before I could insist upon Lucy again, he continued, “Now, what were you doing with Pan’s gang of… _brats_?”

            The iPhone said while I made a vexed expression that showed I didn’t appreciate that, _They’re not brats, I’m babysitting them or something. I’m trying to take care of them because they asked me to. And the girl is my sister._

            He took it well. “Forgive me, Miss Pennington.”

            I sighed. I made my iPhone say, _It’s Lucy. Please tell me they’ll go back home safely._

“I told Mr. Smee to bring them back,” he replied. He took a few steps closer until he was able to reach my chin. He put three fingers under my chin and purred, “But you should stay for a day or two recover.”

            I tried not to blush. Ella needed me. But he was inviting me to hang with him, which was a constant fantasy of mine. I couldn’t imagine why, though. I was too nervous by him. I needed to see Ella. My iPhone said, _I assure you, I’m fine. I really need to check on my sister. You’re being so generous and I’m flattered but I don’t think I trust Peter with her._

“I don’t trust Pan with _you_ ,” he said, fixing his perfectly blue eyes into my ancestral brown eyes.

            No one has ever expressed such a concern for me. I didn’t understand why he was doing this. So I asked him. _Why are you so concerned about me, Captain Hook?_

He smirked under his handsomely rugged pirate facial hair. He strode around the desk and closer to the chair I sat upon. “Has anyone ever told you that you are incredibly beautiful, Lucy?”

            I blushed even more. The answer was no. My iPhone said, _Um, I really don’t know._

            “Well,” he said softly and, I daresay, _seductively_ , grazing a strand of my wet unnaturally dark red hair with the flat side of his hook, “You are.”

            I had to be pink now, I realized as I gave a shy smile and pressed the button that said _thanks_ for me.

            “You’re blushing, love,” he noted, chuckling as he stroked my cheek with the safe flat end of his hook for a hand. It was cold and sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t know what he was doing, and if I liked it or not. Of course I liked it. But I still couldn’t stop thinking about Uncle Rick and the _molestation charges he never faced because I never turned him in_! I think my face matched my deep and angry thoughts because Captain Hook said, “Is something wrong?”

            Everything was right. But I couldn’t face it right now. I looked back and saw a shining grand piano behind the chair. I typed, _does that work? I haven’t played in a while._

“You play the piano, Lucy?” he said.

            I nodded. _And guitar_ , I made my iPhone say. _May I?_

            Rather than letting me get up on my own after he approved, he helped me out of the chair and walked me to the bench. As he did, he said, “By all means.”

            I sat on the bench and examined the ivories. They had been tickled a lot by a hook, apparently. But they still appeared to work. I could have played _The Ballad of Danny Bailey (1909-1934)_ or something by the greatest pianist ever, Elton John, but I found myself touching a key that led to another and another and another until I was playing the theme song to _Diff’Rent Strokes_ , and enjoying myself. I was enjoying myself so much, I paused briefly, took a breath and started to put my vocal cords to use. I sang with as few breaths as I could, pressing the keys passionately, “ _Now, the world don't move to the beat of just one drum, what might be right for you, may not be right for some. A man is born, he's a man of means. Then along come two, they got nothing but their jeans. But they got, Diff'rent Strokes. It takes, Diff'rent Strokes. It takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world. Everybody's got a special kind of story. Everybody finds a way to shi-i-i-ine, It don't matter that you got, not a lot, so what? They'll have theirs, and you'll have yours, and I'll have mi-i-i-ine. And together we'll be fine.... Because it takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world, yes it does. It takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world!”_

            When I was done, I realized I just used my mouth to say words. Sing words. I closed the top of the piano and leaned my elbows against it, pulling my hood over my head. I didn’t look at Captain Hook, but heard him say, “Lucy…you _can_ talk.”

            I shook my head and took out my phone. My shaky hands wound up making the iPhone say, _mo, I carrot._ I grunted and whispered, “ _Cannot_.”

            His hook slowly pulled my hood off my head. I didn’t mind. “Your voice compliments your appearance, you know.”

            I couldn’t believe I sang for _him_. I’d imagine that I’d audibly whisper to only Ella if I ever spoke before I died because we were so close. But I must have trusted Captain Hook. What the hell? I always… _admired_ him, perhaps, but he was as malicious as he was portrayed in movies and books because he apparently wanted to sacrifice my babysit-ees to lure in this kid he didn’t get along with. I typed, making sure to get everything right, _I did this because I trust you for some reason. I don’t know why. You could have killed my sister._

“Somehow, you’re drawn to me, aren’t you, Lucy?” he said.

            He was so freaking right. I nodded as he strutted around the piano.

            “Do you think I’d bring harm to an entirely innocent woman?”

            From what I knew about pirates like him, yeah, probably. I half shrugged and half-nodded.

            He leaned against the closed part of the top of the piano. “Well, you’re wrong. I’m a man of my word. I promise that you and your sister will never die at my hands or anyone else’s if I can help it.”

            _Why?_ my iPhone said for me.

            “I just _do_ ,” he replied.

            I sighed and had my iPhone say, _you know how lucky you are to be the first to hear me talk after six lousy years? Very, okay?_

“I wish you’d actually talk, rather than using _that_ to talk,” he said. “You have a lovely voice, Lucy. Why won’t you take advantage of it?”

            He was impelling me to tell him why. I wanted to say, _Captain Hook, my uncle molested me in an airplane bathroom when I was twelve and for the entire summer sexually abused me, telling me not to tell anyone, and that is why I haven’t spoken a word to anyone in six years. I fear him and I mostly came to Neverland to get away from him and hang out with pirates because pirates are fun_. But I couldn’t. I made my phone say, _I’m not ready to say. Please, let me go back to Ella and the Lost Boys_.

            He gave me another one of those incredibly hot, roguish smirks. “As you wish.”

            I managed to get up by myself and he said, “But, Lucy, will you return when you have the time?”

            Apparently, I was welcome. Not only welcome, but invited. I gave him a smile and nodded. _Sure. I’ll be around if you’ll be around,_ my iPhone said for me.

            He walked me out of what I now knew was the study, onto the deck and off the ship. I had a happy thought to take me back to where I hoped Peter, Ella and the Lost Boys were. I wrote in my phone before flying away, _Captain Hook, can you promise me something?_

            “Name it,” he replied.

            _I didn’t use my vocal cords for anything today. Don’t tell anyone I sang._

            “Of course,” he said. “It’s just between us.” He took my left hand with his right hook and I found myself curling my fingers around the edge as he went all gentlemanly over me again and kissed my knuckles. “Until we meet again,” he purred.

            I gave him another foolishly shy smile. “Bye,” I muttered. With that, I flew away as fast as I could. My happy thought was Captain Hook. He enchanted me. I was going to find him again as soon as I could in the morning because it was dark out. I guess I wasn’t used to the time difference. But…it was crazy. I don’t know how I was still in the air. Maybe thinking about my second encounter with Captain Hook was prominent enough for me to soar with the clouds until I saw light coming from a circle in the trees below me. As I went closer, I saw specks that turned into people. Those people were my sister, my babysit-ees and Peter Pan. I hid behind the hollow tree we lived in and watched them sulk around the campfire.

            “We’ve only known her for so long,” Curly said. “And yet we miss her so much.”

            “I’ve known her for a _decade_ and I’m incomplete!” Ella wailed. She buried her face into her legs she clasped against her chest with her hands and cried.

            Peter looked glum but didn’t talk like it. “How like a _girl_ to cry when someone’s not dead, just gone.”

            “We have no idea what happened to her, Peter!” Nibs argued. “She could be _gone_ -gone!”

            I smiled and typed in the speaking app, _I’m not_.

            Everyone heard it and looked shocked. “That sounded like her!” Slightly shrieked.

            I opened the piano app and started to play _Castle on a Cloud_. I flew around the circle of the trees and watched the boys and Peter search for me as Ella tiredly sang. I flew beyond the trees while the boys were searching, not facing Ella and I stood behind her. As I finished the song, I tapped her back with my foot. She turned and exclaimed, “Lucy!” She got up and leapt into my arms after I put my phone in my pocket. “I thought I lost you.”

            I kissed her cheek as the Lost Boys and Peter hurried towards me, all squealing my name and trying to hug me, but I was only caring about Ella for a while. When all the Lost Boys were done, Peter approached me and I put Ella down. “Lucy, did he hurt you?” he demanded.

            I calmly opened the talking app and it said, _not at all. He was a perfect gentleman. Played some piano for him, he let me go, I think we’re friends._

            He looked really pissed off. “ _Friends_?!” Peter hissed. “He’s no one’s _friend_! He’s a heartless villain!”

            Glaring at him as I typed, I had the iPhone say, _you’re the jerk who cut his hand off!_

            He groaned. I continued, _I think we all need to get some sleep. It’s been an exciting day and things will be more peaceful in the morning_.

            Ella and the Lost Boys went into the tree, but Peter stayed standing in front of me. “What did he say to you?”

            The truth was he flirted his head off. I made the iPhone say simply, _Just hey, sorry I kidnapped you and your kids, you have mad piano skills, see you around_.

            He narrowed his eyes. “You won’t _see him around_ , you know.”

            _Why the hell not? I’m sort of your mom. I can think for myself._

He groaned. “We’re out to get each other, me and Captain Hook. You have to choose sid1es. I think your sister is on mine.”

            He went into the tree. “Asshole,” I breathed. I knew Peter Pan was a cocky little twit, and maybe that’s why I preferred Captain Hook, even though he was also a douchebag. Even though I hated Uncle Rick for scaring the shit out of me with his sporadic molestation sessions, I longed for excitement, love, adventure, all of which Captain Hook would be a better supplier for. Uncle Rick only touched me where and when he wasn’t supposed to touch me. I found myself sitting by the dying fire, thinking about what time it was in London or Philadelphia, what Captain Hook was doing and thinking, if I had the strength to cut off Uncle Rick’s dick next time I saw him like I imagined once or twice, if Captain Hook were a manwhore or interested in me and…all that thinking knocked me out.


	5. Banishment

            For two days, Peter and the Lost Boys kept me too busy to see Captain Hook again, but he never escaped my thoughts. I didn’t know why the hell I was so intrigued by him. Maybe being a babysitter in a magical land of fairies and mermaids was boring, I realized after a while. But Ella was having too much fun, and started calling me Mother. I was a better mother than Mrs. Alexa Jacobs-Pennington—that went without saying, but I wasn’t a mother. One evening during dinner, I grabbed Ella’s attention from Tootles’s fart joke and said with my iPhone, that I had been using to talk since I left Captain Hook, _Ella, where were we before we came to Neverland?_

“The statue of Peter in Kensington Gardens,” she said. “That’s where we all came from.

            The boys cheered. I rolled my eyes and typed, _No, before that._

            She looked completely stumped. I opened the piano app and started to play _Philadelphia Freedom_. She was still clueless but jamming to it like everyone else. I groaned and hummed the lyrics as I played. Then she realized. “Oh…we’re from Philadelphia. Pennsylvania. America.”

            I stopped playing and nodded.

            “Don’t tell me you want to go back, Mother!” Nibs whined.

            Going back meant Uncle Rick. I’d rather be drowned by mermaids than have to deal with him again. I shook my head and typed, _You’re just forgetting who you are, Ella. I’m glad I can remember._

Peter said, “What, are you bored of us?”

            Lately, Peter had been making me feel really guilty. He told me some sad stuff about Captain Hook, told me I was being an awful person by trying to do my own thing sometimes, and said Captain Hook would only abuse me if I talked to him again. I realized in that moment that he knew I had the hots for him. But who told him? I didn’t. Ella knew. She said so. I needed to talk to Peter about it. He wasn’t treating me right and I was able to leave to go somewhere I was _asked_ to go. In the back of my head, I was a little…intimidated…by Captain Hook but Peter was just being an ass! I pointed to him, then me, then pointed to the door. He understood because he joined me outside. “What’s wrong with you, Lucy?”

            I was mad. I spoke. In a whisper, a raspy murmur, but I talked. To him. “You listen good, Pan, I’m only going to say this once. Captain Hook made a really good impression on me and I like him. Don’t make me feel bad about that. I have been tossed around for a very long time and I came because I thought I had a chance at being happy for once in my life. Maybe that’s on the sea. I hate the air, I hate Earth, I hate hunting and I really hate _you_ right now.”

            He was awestruck by my talking, I saw on his face while I spoke. But when it was his turn, he hissed aggressively, “Fine. Abandon your _sister_ and let Hook torture you. Don’t call for help when you find out what a bastard he is!”

            I had a _fuck you_ button on my phone I wanted to use. Before unlocking my phone, I noticed the date and time. I realized it was June 23 rd, eight P.M. I had three days of childhood left. And although I was just as unhappy as I was four days ago, I was alive. Miracles do happen. “It’s my eighteenth birthday, you son of a bitch,” I grunted.

            “You’re not welcome here anymore, then,” he said pompously, holding his head up high. “You’re a grown-up.”

            “Let me have my sister,” I said. “I’m going to the Jolly Roger—“

            “Your sister is a Lost Girl! She’s staying here and you’re leaving!”

            I didn’t have a happy thought to get me anywhere. I had sad thoughts that would make me sink in the hardened dirt like it was quicksand. I felt a warm tear go down my trembling face.

            “How like a girl!” Peter scoffed. “Crying!”  
            I was mad now. I raised my hand and slapped him. “You are a pompous little sleaze and I _will_ be back for Ella!” I ran, not stopping for anything. I don’t know how I got there, but I reached a river with glimmering blue water entering the stream from a waterfall. It looked deep. It was perfect to fulfill my plan I had been planning for a very long time. To commit suicide on this very day. I jumped in and released every last breath I had as I plummeted to the bottom of the freezing cold water. It wasn’t as deep as I thought, though. I don’t know how, but I did wind up fainting.

 

            I dreamt of picnics and skinny dipping and making out with this really hot guy who had a hook for a right hand. There was no talking, just some making out. We sat under a white magnolia tree at some point. I was wrapped in a gray blanket and wearing nothing under it, while the man was in only his breeches and a harness that held his hook in place on his right arm, stroking my hair with his hook. But then I heard something banging and felt a cold hand on my bare shoulder. I looked back and saw a familiar face that I hated. He stole me from the hook-handed hot guy and I appeared in a dark bedroom and felt him doing something really awful to places he really shouldn’t have, and I heard him sing very off-key, “ _I’m your wicked Uncle_ Rick _, I’m glad you won’t see or hear me as I fiddle about…fiddle about…fiddle about! Your mother left me here to mind you, now I’m doing what I want to! Fiddling about, fiddling about, fiddle about! Down with the bedclothes, up with your nightshirt! Fiddle about, fiddle about, fiddle about! Fiddle about, fiddle about, fiddle about! You won’t shout as I fiddle about. Fiddle about, fiddle about, fiddle ab—“_ And then I saw Peter Pan beating my sister with his reed pipes. She bled, and I tried to stop him but he beat me too as the familiar face I hated was still touching me. The hot guy pushed Peter and the face I hated away and started banging my chest with his hand and hook, making it bleed. I was terrified. Just when I felt like I was about to scream, everything went dark and silent.

 

 

 


	6. The Sedan Chair

            I coughed up some water on my hoodie and woke up to find myself in Captain Hook’s arms in a sedan chair that was in motion through the forest, I noticed out the window. I looked back at Captain Hook and he stared at me with his ice-cold blue eyes that I had been dying to see for what seemed like a really long time. For some reason, I felt incredibly safe with him but at the same time, scared. “Y-y-you,” I murmured, shivering in fear and because I was damp and freezing. Speaking hurt my throat.

            “Shh-shh-shh- _shh_ ,” he breathed, tracing his hook down my jawline and to my lips. With the back of his hand, he felt my forehead. “You’re burning up, love, you must relax.”

            It was almost an order. My tensed shoulders loosened. He said softly and soothingly, “There we go. We’ll arrive at the ship shortly.”

            I tried to reach into my hoodie to take out my phone but I was too weak. But strong enough to shiver because of the cold. He felt my hoodie with his hand and said, “It’s not keeping you warm, is it?”

            I shook my head only once. His hook went through the circle on the pull tab on the zipper. “I’d imagine you’d take this off because of the heat.”

            I was a little sweaty when dry. But I always wore the hoodie in rain or shine. I was…self-conscious, perhaps. No, I hated myself and my body. But I remained silent, even though he slowly unzipped my hoodie. I saw a want in his eyes. A curiosity. Maybe even desire. I had seen it before with Uncle Rick but it wasn’t this handsome. When the zipper was all the way down and split the hoodie in two, he gazed at what I wore under it. Just a boatneck T-shirt that was a little small on me. I realized that he was staring at the black lace that poked out of the rim. I must have thrown on the only non-plain bra I owned that morning. Captain Hook seemed to scrutinize the figure I hid under my hoodie since I can remember. “Why have you been hiding this?” he breathed. “Such a lovely figure.”

            I pulled the shirt up, but the bottom rode up my stomach a little. I sighed. “I just feel the need to cover up,” I whispered quickly. I meant I was trying to hide myself from Uncle Rick, even in Philadelphia where he didn’t live. His words from the incident in the airplane echoed through my aching head. Breathing audibly and heavily, I tried to sit up but Captain Hook gently pushed me back down. I got the strength to re-zip my hoodie and take out my phone. My phone was out of juice. “Shit,” I murmured. 

            “What’s wrong?” he asked.

            I groaned. “My phone’s dead. I won’t be able to talk until I can charge it with the sun.”

            “But you _are_ talking right now, you know,” he said.

            “I don’t know why,” I muttered. I shook a little and groaned, burying my face in my hands, “What the hell am I doing?”

            He gently removed my hands from my face by pushing them away. “Exhausting yourself, that is what you’re doing,” he whispered. He gazed into my eyes for a minute or two and then lifted my head and back a little closer to him. With his hook, he gently pushed my head to face closer to him, and he kissed me. Not all that gently, but not too soft. It was perfect. He caressed my jawline with the cold flat side of his hook as I eased into it. Kissing him felt incredibly right. Perhaps because I was legal. I was eighteen, old enough to do anything I damn well pleased. But after a while, I started to think about Uncle Rick. He didn’t kiss, he _licked_. It was gross. Captain Hook’s kissing style was perfect, nice and slow but still appropriately assertive, but for some reason, the memories of Uncle Rick made me pull back. I didn’t want to talk, but I had to. I croaked, “I-I’m sorry…I’m really sorry—“

            “Don’t be,” he replied gently. “Did I do something wrong?”

            “No,” I replied, trying to sit up. “No, you did everything right.” Although I thirsted for more, I couldn’t take it. “It’s not you, it’s me. I—“

            He gently pushed me back down to a lying position. “Just rest, my dear, and you can explain in the morning.”

            “Can you just do me a favor?” I muttered.

            “Anything,” he replied.

            I handed him my phone. “Put this by a window. I’ll need it tomorrow.”

            He took it gently with his hand and said, “If you insist. Sleep.”

            My body somehow loosened and the last thing that happened before I drifted to a peaceful sleep was Captain Hook kissing my lips again.


	7. The Awakening

            I woke up feeling physically healed, but in an unfamiliar place. I was on a luxurious bed, still in my hoodie and jeans to my relief. My shoes were by a stained-glass window next to my phone, which I discovered when I approached them, was fully charged. I put on my shoes and put my phone in my pocket and opened the door to a hallway. In there, I heard muffled talking from another door that I knew to lead to the study. There I saw Captain Hook growling at the round individual. Captain Hook was in only pants, a harness around his right arm that held his hook and boots. Major turn-on. He sat lazily at the desk and the round individual seemed nervous around him. I opened the talking app and pressed the button that said _hi._

            Captain Hook glared at the round individual. "Out," he growled quietly. 

            The round individual scurried away as Captain Hook pushed himself up. I looked at the time and it said five P.M. I said in the talking app, _how long was I asleep?_

            "Three days," he replied. My jaw dropped. That meant— "I see you've regained your strength."

            I nodded and opened the calendar app. There was a dot under the date. It said, "18th birthday, are you dead yet?" My phone fell out of my hands and I stared into space. I was officially eighteen today. And thanks to an antagonist to a timeless tale who could kill me whenever he damn well pleased, I was alive and well. "What's wrong, love?" Captain Hook asked.

            I didn't want to use my phone. I had to talk. I opened my mouth and said quietly, " _Es ist meinem achtzehnten Geburtstag heute_."

            His eyebrows furrowed. "What was that?"

            " _D-Deutsch_ ," I said. I groaned and held my temples with my hands. I managed to whisper. "It's my eighteenth birthday." I gulped and looked down at my shoes. They got closer and closer to my eyes and I didn't feel my ass fall onto the floor. "I wasn't supposed to be alive now. I was supposed to be dead." 

            I didn't pay attention to Captain Hook kneeling to my height. My eyes just kept staring wide-eyed at my feet. "You're only eighteen?" he said. "I presumed you were much older."

            I shook my head. "No. Eighteen." I picked up my phone and opened the calendar. It said I would be officially in half an hour. For six years exactly, I wanted to die. For six years, I was looking forward to this day because I chose to die. But I was alive at the hands of a cold-hearted killer. "Why did you leave me alive?" I murmured. "I tried to die. Why did you interrupt me?"

            He turned his head just a little to avoid nose-bumping when he kissed me... Again. Even better than the last time. And there was a time before. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck after shoving my phone back into my hoodie pocket. His head pushed a little on my lips as he got me back on my feet, stroking my hair with his functional hand and holding me closer against him with his harnessed arm. I felt his warmth against me, even though my hoodie had a fleecy substance inside and I was wearing long sleeves. We lasted about three minutes and while it seemed like a long time, it wasn't enough. "I love you," I whispered. "Have since..." I shrugged and laughed. "I dunno."

            He gave me one of those sexy, mischievous pirate smirks again. He purred in my right ear, "I love you, too." He kissed and gently bit the area my helix piercing on my ear was. As he did, he brought his hook through the pull tab on the zipper of my hoodie and I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as I felt a little cold air on my now exposed torso. He kissed my neck and said, "Please, Lucy, be mine for the night. Let me make love to you right now."

               I was 18. I was "legal". I could do whatever the hell I wanted, except drink in America. But I didn't care about that right now. "I'd be insulted if you didn't," I said.

              Right then and there, he picked me up and rushed me out the door and to the room that I woke up in. He was appropriately rough by the way he threw me onto the amazingly soft bed. I took off my hoodie and let it fall to the floor as he started to French kiss me. It was perfect. I felt his rough hand creep under my shirt. Before I reacted out loud, I realized something. "Uh, Capta–"

              "James, my love," he said. "Address me as James.”

“Okay, James, uh, I just need to check something real quick." I swiftly picked up my phone and hurriedly opened an app that answered a very important question. It said I wasn't fertile. Just planning for the future. "Okay," I said. I put my phone back on my hoodie that was on the floor and made my shoes join them.

When I turned back towards him, he asked, "What was that, love?"

"Just making sure we can do this without any consequences," I said. "We can."

He smiled and lifted my shirt off. I got cold but that was okay.

He gazed at the sight of my almost completely bare upper body, caressing my stomach with his warm functional hand. "Absolutely perfect," he breathed. He kissed my chin and then my lips as I arched my back to try to take off my bra. I grunted and he broke the kiss. “Allow me,” he said as I released my hands. He got me to turn over and I felt the cold metal of his hook on my back. I felt the clasps go apart and I let him help me take it off. He caressed my completely bare back with his hand and kissed the back of my neck while I fumbled out of my pants. He turned me over and although I was freezing and very modest, my hands didn’t go straight for my bare chest to cover it. I let his hook go through the buttonhole of my pants and take them off. “It’s useful for more than killing,” he said as he helped me slide out of the remainder of my clothes. When they were all off, I closed my eyes and shivered because of the cold. I heard James take off his pants and felt warmth against me. He was on top of me, and on top of him were the blankets. “Are you ready, my beauty?”

Before I could say something, _You Will Be a Woman_ by Blutengel played on my phone. I laughed. It fit the situation I was in. _My little girl I have a secret for you, I want you to listen to my words, the world outside is no place for you, I will give you something you've never felt before._ It stopped there and I said. “As far as the United States of America is concerned, I’m legally old enough now.” After two seconds of eye contact, I said, “Yeah.”

Without warning, he smashed his lips against mine and…initiated intercourse. I felt pleasure, love, lust, passion and a million bolts of lightning down my spine with each thrust in me but no pain. No regret. And not one thought of Uncle Rick. Not once. Just the automatic love I felt for him. I wanted him and I got him. That was…pretty kick-ass. I wasn’t paying attention to the time elapsed, but it seemed pretty late when we were both exhausted. The candles were out and the moonlight supplied next to nothing for light through the windows. He pulled out of me but didn’t really let go of me. He kissed my earlobe and whispered, “I love you, Lucy.”

“Are you my boyfriend now, or something?” I asked.

We both laughed a little. After that, he kissed my lips as if in confirmation. “Sleep, love. I’ll be right back.”

And so I slept.


	8. Remembrance

            Just like Ella, I began to forget about my past within two days. But that wasn’t really bad. I remembered Philadelphia and England and who I was, but I didn’t remember all the shit I willingly left behind. I had a better life than I did with the Lost Boys. I automatically became assistant Captain or something of the Jolly Roger. I started to answer to my pirate name Robyn Byrd (because I could fly and some people say robins flying through windows will bring death), but I remembered I was Lucinda Pennington and was addressed as Lucy in private by James. I talked and sang again whenever I damn well pleased. I never told James why I didn’t talk because Uncle Rick was just a distant family member my family was on a Christmas card basis with. So was everyone, even Ella. I realized this while I was changing into a nightgown a week after I moved in. I looked at my phone and hoodie that sat on the windowsill. My phone was fully charged, and I found myself unlocking it, turning on the piano app and playing _Castle on a Cloud_. I remembered every single time Ella sang it. I was glad I could remember her. I couldn’t bear to forget. When I finished, I felt my boyfriend Captain James Hook’s arms wrap around my lower body. He gently kissed my neck and breathed, “What’s the matter, my love?”

            I knew I was crying but I didn’t acknowledge it. “Huh?”

            He turned me around and pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket with his hook. He dabbed it around wet parts of my face and said, “What’s wrong?”

            I didn’t feel like talking. I got out my phone and opened the photo album. I found a recent picture of Ella and showed it to him. “Your sister, isn’t she?” he said.

            I nodded.

            “You worry about her, don’t you?”

            I nodded. I wrote in the talking app, _I just need to know if she’s okay._

            He took the phone from me and put it back on the windowsill. “Please, Lucy, use your voice. I’ve grown to hate that machine.”

            I sighed. “I know.” I got on the bed and James joined me. I let him wrap his arms around me again and pull me closer to his front. I felt his warmth against the thin but soft fabric of my nightdress. My place wasn’t looking after Ella forever, even though I cared about her more than anything. I was a pirate. It didn’t take very long to become one. I didn’t want to leave it. Ever. But someday Ella would have to go back to school, and maybe my parents would start to worry about me. For the first time in more than a week, I remembered Uncle Rick’s face. I whimpered and James reacted, “Really, love, what _is_ the matter?”

            I was ready to tell him why I never talked. I turned around and said, “James, let me tell you what’s been wrong for six years.”

            I spent a really long time explaining the airplane incident in vivid detail and every other time Uncle Rick got to me. I talked about my awful parents and how I became more mother than sister to Ella, even though I wanted to just be sister. I spoke of the dream I had when I was drowning and realized it was kind of like The Who’s _Tommy_ except I was Ann-Margaret and he was Robert Powell. I explained the wacky molestation scene in the movie and in my dream but didn’t speak of what Peter Pan was doing to my sister. I didn’t want to talk about it and didn’t find it important. When I had nothing else to tell him, he pulled me closer against himself, which was apparently possible. “If he ever has the audacity to hurt you again, he’ll answer to me.” He kissed my neck and my impulsively tense muscles completely relaxed. “I could send the bird to keep an eye on Ella in the morning.”

            There was a bird that spied on people and irritated the crap out of Smee. “That would be nice,” I said with a little smile.

            He kissed my lips with the right amount of gentleness and force that I really appreciated.

 

       

            In my dream that night, the crew of the Jolly Roger and the Lost Boys were in an outdoor space together but didn’t look very happy. I stood atop a mountain of giant metal balls and James and Ella stood a few feet below me. The Lost Boys and the crew physically fought for a bit until Peter dragged Ella and James to the crowd and they were beaten and stabbed to death. I didn’t get off the mountain, just stared at them in shock and fear. They left Ella and James on the dirt ground and I ran to them to find that they were dead.


	9. Sex and Stress

 

            I woke up alone, as I often did because James insisted upon letting me sleep. I felt really awful due to the dream. I decided to try not to think about it and let it go. James couldn’t be dead and I would keep hoping that Ella was alive and well until the bird told me that she wasn’t. I put on a white chemise blouse, a maroon and black skirt and a black bodice, and then my hightops. They were the only shoes I’d wear and no one hassled me because of it. I went outside to find James leaning against the helm, staring blankly at the crew running around doing random things. “Hey,” I greeted flatly. James turned and gave a little smile. He kissed my cheek and wrapped an arm around me. “Any word from the bird?”

            “He should return shortly,” James replied. “I sent him out an hour ago.”

            “An hour?” I repeated.

            “Yes,” he replied. “It’s eleven, love.”

            I sighed. “I had the shittiest dream.”

            He kissed the top of my forehead and then the bird came. He sat upon one of the wooden bars sticking out of the wheel and said, “ _Bwaak_ , girl alive, _bwaak_ , Pan yells at her, _bwaak_ , children call her mother, _bwaak_ , girl looks upset.”

            I didn’t know what to do. “Do you think she remembers me?”

            “There’s no telling,” James said. “Pan has a habit of erasing memories of the children he brings to Neverland.”

            “But he brought me,” I murmured. “But…some things slipped my mind. But not Ella completely.” I sighed. “I can’t visit her alone, can I? Too dangerous?”

            James nodded.

            I sighed and looked at the bird. “Do you think _you_ can speak to her? Just tell her where I am?”

            “ _Bwaak_ , yes, Miss Byrd, _bwaak_.” He flew away.

            I looked at James and said. “James, I’m scared to pieces. I really don’t trust Peter.”

            He tightened his loving grip around me and replied smoothly and soothingly, “ _Robyn_ , I promised you that she wouldn’t be harmed if I can help it. She’ll be okay.”

            I rested my head on his shoulder. It was the one with the harness around it and I bumped my head on the hard metal. “Ow,” I breathed. I lifted my head and after some eye contact, James and I shared in a laugh. When we were done, James ran his hook through my hair and said, “Love, you need a break. You’ve been under so much pressure.”

            “No, I haven’t,” I said. “I’ve been happy. Just, all of a sudden concerned about Ella. But otherwise, I’m fine.”

            “Are you really?” he replied, making deep eye contact.

            I shrugged. “If there’s nothing we desperately need to do today, maybe we can just go out alone. You and me.”

            James smirked. “Tonight, I know the perfect place.”

 

            We did normal stuff in the day. Sailed around the island looking for trouble to find us so we could kick its ass and keep its stuff but didn’t find anything. But it was fun. The bird didn’t show up all day. I worried that it didn’t know where we are but James said he’d know where we were and probably just wasn’t done spying. I tried not to worry and focused on the waves the ship was breaking as we sailed to a certain spot James wanted to go to for our date. As we walked hand in hand, I realized out loud, “Y’know, we haven’t really been on a real date before. Just hanging around in your room and having sex.”

            “You don’t enjoy that?” he responded, even though we both knew I did. A lot. And so did he.

            I playfully nudged him and said, “I’m a girl. It’s not entirely about sex for me.”

            “It isn’t for me, either, love,” he replied.

            I knew that. I was just as happy hanging out as I was having sex with him. But we had been having a lot of sex. “I love you, James. But in a way, I don’t get you,” I chuckled.

            “What do you mean by that, Lucy?” he asked.

            I shrugged. “You’re a rogue, you’re a scourge of the sea, you often scare the shit out of people by showing up and exposing the hook and yet you’re a such a gentleman. It’s weird.”

            He chortled a little. “Perhaps I developed certain behaviors in my youth.”

            I could say he knew me very well, and I knew a lot about him now, but all I knew about his younger days was that he went to Eton College. “Tell me about it. I don’t know about it.”

            So we ate some apples by an apparently mermaidless waterfall and I listened to James talk about his really bleak early life. I was more than comfortable resting my head on his lap, listening to his sorrows and some stuff no one would have guessed. J.M. Barrie came to Neverland when he was a kid and then he and Peter brought the Llewelyn Davies boys and had some fun. James didn’t really like any of them and when I told him that they had been dead for a really long time, he didn’t seem happy but he wasn’t at all sad. When he was done talking, I felt like I had just read his brain. He shared some really private stuff with me without resisting. None of it changed the way I felt about him, absolutely not. I said to him, making straight eye contact, “James, I really appreciate you telling me that. You’ve seen some weird shit, haven’t you?”

            He stroked my chin gently with his fingers and said, “You’ve suffered, Lucinda Pennington. You’ve suffered a thousand storms.”

            I chuckled once. “I was molested by my uncle and my parents don’t give two shits about me. People have had it worse.” I sighed and smiled up at him. “I have it awesome. I have you.”

            He smiled back and bent his upright upper body to kiss my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me. He stopped for just a second to lie down with me and then continued a rather risqué make-out. After just some kissing, his hook wandered to the loose bow my corset was tied in and I felt it loosen. I stopped him by saying, “Are we about to _do it_?”

            “Is there any reason we can’t, my love?” he purred.

            I laughed. “Promise me this isn’t Lost Boy territory. It’ll be super awkward.”

            “If you’re that frightened, the water is clean and warm.”

            “I’ve never done it in the water,” I said. That was stupid for me to say. “Then again, I’ve only done if with you.”  
             We hurriedly stripped and got into the water at the same time. I’m not good at seeing even outlines of anything underwater without goggles and couldn’t find him when I was in the depths of the clear, perfectly temperature water. I was a little shocked when I felt someone grab me. I rose to the surface to find myself in James’s arms. “Lost you for a moment,” he said.

            He was holding me tightly but not hurting me at all. Not that he would. Nothing could have gotten him to let go. I kissed him and ran my fingers through his coarse hair. I felt his rough hand rub my bare back. “You’re perfect, you know, Lucy.”

            I smiled. “Not really.”

            He kissed my neck and his hand wandered to my chest. His fingers rolled down the middle of my chest and to the…body part between my legs. “Yes, you are,” he whispered in my ear before kissing it. As he kissed my ear, his finger went in the opening of the…part he was touching and he felt around. I gasped and moaned, shivering in pleasure as he found the rather sensitive part in there. “Ah, there it is,” he smirked.

His finger went in a circular motion around it and I panted. “H-holy crap, that’s…awesome.”

His smirk widened and he kissed my neck. “I know. Feels good on me, too.”

He went faster and faster with every rotation and before I screamed in the pleasure, I bit my wrist so no one would hear. James lifted his hook for a moment and pulled my wrist away with it. “Don’t worry, love, no one will hear.”

“Y-you s-sure?” I panted. He didn’t stop rubbing.

He smirked and kissed my chin. “I’m sure.”  
            I let myself moan louder and louder with every rhythmic and powerful motion he brought to that sensitive spot until I screamed and felt…something…shoot out from there. James grinned and took out his finger. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.

I panted. “T-that was awesome.”

Some making out led to…intercourse in the missionary position, shall we say? Just did. It was light and warm when we started but all of a sudden as we were wrapping it up, the water got cold and the sun above the trees faded away. It happened so quickly. “What’s happening?” I asked.

James looked at the sky that was once a light blue but automatically turned darker, too light to be night but too dark to be happy. “This is weird,” I mumbled.

“He’s gone,” James breathed. “He must have left.”

“Who?” I said.

“Pan,” he replied.

As if I couldn’t, he got me out of the water and we got dressed again. “The weather of this place depends on some kid?” I said.

James’s gaze remained at the sky. “Where the hell is he?”

I heard the ship’s bird’s unrealistic call from far away, but it got closer and closer until I saw something fall from the trees. The bird fell right at our feet and we both hurriedly bent to it. The left side of him was leaking red stuff on the dirt. His left wing was cut off. “Pan…gone… _bwaak,_ girl still here… _bwaak_ …children planning a-a-attack… _bwaak_ …Pan be back soon to defeat… _bwa—“_

His right wing flapped but that got him nowhere. I picked him up and James and I stood up. “Anything else?” Jame said.

“G-good… _bwaak…_ luck… _bwaak_ …L-L- _Lucy_.”

His beady little black eyes blinked a few times and then closed. He obviously died. “When this is over, we’re holding a funeral for him,” I said, looking at James. He looked sad in his manly way. “He’s a crew member.”

James took him from me and put it in the pocket of his red jacket. “Let’s go.”

 

We returned to the Jolly Roger to find everyone taking care of business, except for Smee. He was sleeping at his post. James sighed when we saw him. “Would you be so kind to wake him up while I call a meeting?”

“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” I giggled.

“And don’t be gentle,” James told me as I climbed up to the deck he was on.

I didn’t use Mr. Smee as a punching bag like James did. He was nice. He never recognized me as the girl he tried to make walk the plank. He was adorably clueless. I grasped his shoulder and shook him. “Wake up, Mr. Smee. We got stuff going on.”

He snored louder than he already was. I patted his face. “Awaken, o Amazing Boatswain Smee.”

His eyes fluttered open. “W-what is it? What happened?” He looked up. “It’s winter.” He looked at me. “How long was I asleep?”

“Not long,” I replied. “C’mon. Stuff going on.”

He got off his chair and waddled behind me to the main deck. I stood by James as the crew made a clump around him. James reached into his pocket and showed the bird. “We’ve lost our spy and messenger, possibly because of Pan and his gang of children,” he said, disdainfully when he spoke of Peter. A lot of them gasped. Some looked near tears. “When we have the time, we will lay him to rest. But first, Pan has left and the Lost Boys are planning an attack against us.” He got really excited and aggressive when he continued, “We must prepare for battle until it finds us so we can finally _prevail!_ ”

The crew cheered and I whispered to James, “James, you’re not hurting the kids.”

He looked at me as if I just called him something really weird and offensive. “ _Lucy_ , they may be children, but they have weapons and it’s time we defeated them.”

“I know,” I said, leading him away from the cheering crew. “We should scare them away but _killing_ kids is just wrong.”

He exposed his hook. “A child did this to me. He deserves no mercy.”

I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal and lowered his arm. I sighed, “I know. I’m just worried about Ella.”

He sighed and kissed my forehead. “She will be alive no matter what,” he whispered.

“Just have them scare the kids away and shoot a few blanks in the air.”

He looked annoyed. “We’re pirates, Lucy. We don’t work like that.”

“If you have to, just beat them up,” I groaned. Then I realized something. “We’re fighting.”

“Maybe we are,” James replied.

I chuckled. “This sucks. We just had a really romantic evening and now we’re fighting over some kids’ lives.”

He gave a little smile. Just by giving me a passionate kiss, I forgot all about it. I didn’t adore those kids but as long as Ella was okay, I was happy.

 

“Why do you think Peter left?” I asked James as he joined me in the bed.

“Perhaps to check on your family,” he replied. “To make sure they’re not looking for you and Ella.”

 I scoffed. “He won’t get anything from my parents. These summers are how they stay married.” He wrapped his arms around my torso and I pulled the blanket over us. I felt his heartbeat a little below my neck. Peter said James was heartless. Literally. He was wrong. He didn’t know shit about him. “I love you,” I breathed.

He kissed my shoulder that was only covered by the spaghetti straps of my nightdress. “Lucy, have you ever considered…settling down?”

I was too tired to think about what his intention with that question he asked. “I thought I’d be dead by now when it’d make a difference. But before that…” I chuckled. “Yeah. I used to imagine going on awesome adventures and meeting some guy on the way that I could live with forever.” I yawned. “Get a nice brownstone or something not quite in the city but not in the suburbs. Teach music, maybe have a kid, be stable but still go on adventures…and stuff.” I yawned again. “Night, James.”

“Sleep well, my love,” I heard James reply before I went right to sleep.


	10. Lost And Found

            In the morning, the sun and heat returned, I realized when I emerged from my room fully dressed. The crew was doing what the crew does and Smee was sleeping at his post. I kicked his chair and he jolted up and saw me. “Oh, um-um, good morning, Miss Byrd.”

            James wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Where’s the Captain?”

            “He, uh, went, um…somewhere.”

            “Which somewhere?” I said. “They’re all over the place.”

            “Erm, I’m not—I’m not supposed to tell you, miss,” Smee replied.

            I sighed. “I guess we’re just waiting for Pan’s gang to attack?”

            “Unless you order us to them first, miss.”

            “No,” I replied. “We’re being adults and doing our jobs.” I patted his head. “You can go back to sleep.”

            As I proceeded down the stairs to the main deck, Smee called, “B-but I’m not s’posed—“  
            I turned and laughed. “Until Captain Hook comes, how about?”

            He gave a weak smile back and I turned around. I saw one of the pirates who manned the crow’s nest sometimes, whom I knew as Kojo, run towards me. “Miss Byrd,” he said when he reached me.

            “Mornin’, Kojo,” I said.

            “Miss Byrd, s-since you’re in charge now, I need to tell you this.”

            “Tell me,” I said.

            “Peter Pan returned an hour ago while the Cap’n was gone. With him was a _grown-up_.”

            I raised my eyebrows. Peter really had something against adults. “Huh, wonder what the hell a grown-up is doing with him. Are you sure it wasn’t a really big teenager?”

            “I’m sure, Miss Byrd,” Kojo replied. “H-he had red hair. Bit ‘o facial hair, I think. Only saw him through the telescope.”

            Bill Jukes approached me and said, “Tried to shoot at ‘em. No luck.”

            “Okay,” I said. “Got a clue when Captain Hook will be back?”

            “He left an hour or two ago,” Kojo said. “He said just to get something. So any minute now.”

            I sighed. I worried a little that the Lost Boys would catch him. I didn’t want any goddamn fights to start between anyone. So I overseered the crew and took the liberty of mopping the decks for Noodler so I could get my mind off my worries. My iPhone was in my corset and I put Blutengel on shuffle. It livened up the crew and I survived an hour before Kojo saw Peter Pan. “Pan!” he wailed from the crow’s nest.

            Everyone stopped what they were doing and whipped out their swords and guns. “No guns!” I shouted. “He’s not harming anyone.” All the guns were put away, but not the swords. “Swords, too.” They were reluctantly put away.

            Peter came closer and closer, and so did the adult Kojo spoke of. I recognized that adult more and more as we all stared at them. When Peter and the adult landed on their feet on the main deck, I realized who the adult was. I had escaped him for more than a week and I felt like this was the end of all escapes. I could manage two things—kill Uncle Rick, freak out, or kill myself. I had to go with the homicidal option. “Hi, Rick,” I said, approaching him. My fingers grasped around my knife that I hid under my skirt. “Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger.” Before I could whip out the knife, he grabbed my hands and tied them together with a rough rope that burned my wrists. The knife fell out of my hands. Uncle Rick and Peter flew off the ship. The crew loaded their guns and shot at us but didn’t get me. I struggled and he said, “Don’t start, _Robyn Byrd_ , I won’t get my fill until we’re safe in London.”

            Peter flew close to us and said, “Take her home. I’ll round up the lost boys.” Then he left.

            Uncle Rick’s hands crept up my corset and to the space between the neckline of my blouse and my chin. His hands were cold, just like him. I kicked him but his legs flinched. “You grow every time I see you.”

            I grunted. “You asshole.”

            “And you talk,” he noted. “Well, now I’ll be able to hear you enjoy it.”

            He flew lower and to the big tree where Peter and the Lost Boys made their home. Peter stood on a boulder giving the boys, each holding a makeshift but harmful weapon or two. Uncle Rick dragged me to the tree and the last thing I heard before going down the slide was the boys cheering, _“Kill Captain Hook! Kill Captain Hook! Kill Captain Hook!”_

             I felt something on my wrists. A hand grabbed the rope and dragged me to the wall. When I sat up, I recognized who dragged me there. Ella. “E-E-Ella,” I murmured.

            She looked pale. Her pants and sweater were torn and dirty. Her brown curly hair was oily and limp. I never saw her like this. Something about her reminded me of one of the brainwashed child soldiers from _Blood Diamond_. “How do you know my name?” she barked.

            “Ella, i-it’s me,” I said.

            “Yeah. You’re Robyn Byrd. You and Captain Hook killed my sister. I wish I were allowed to kill you now.”

            She was definitely like one of the kids from Blood Diamond. “What the hell did they tell you? Ella, I’m still Lucy.”

            Her face turned red. “You’re not Lucy! You’re a pirate! A grown-up and a killer!”

            I had never seen her this angry. “E-Ella—“

            She slapped my face, but it didn’t hurt much. She was too weak. “Don’t try to lure me into your stupid plans. It won’t be the end of the world if Peter comes to find you dead.”

            “How can I prove it to you?” I said as Ella turned around to not look at me. “I’m Lucy.”  
             “Lucy doesn’t talk.”

“I do now.”  
“She doesn’t sound like that.”

“She hasn’t talked in six years. What do you expect?”

She sighed and turned to me. Her face was redder than what I used to dye my hair. “Just shut up!” She sat on a chair and looked the other way. I had an idea. My phone was in my corset but my hands were behind my back. I managed to get my hands past my butt and legs and in front of me. I got my iPhone out and unlocked it. Ella heard the sound and sat up a little straighter but didn’t look at me. I opened the piano app and didn’t play _Rugrats_ or _Castle on a Cloud_. My singing voice hadn’t changed much in my years of silence as far as I was concerned and I thought if I played and sang a certain song, she would come to her senses. I pressed one key and then another. A few keys finished the intro and then I sang as I played. “ _Now, the world don't move to the beat of just one drum, what might be right for you, may not be right for some. A man is born, he's a man of means. Then along come two, they got nothing but their jeans,”_ Ella jumped out of her seat and looked at me with wide eyes. I continued and she quietly sang along, _“But they got, Diff'rent Strokes. It takes, Diff'rent Strokes. It takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world."_ She smiled and joined me loud and proud. “ _Everybody's got a special kind of story. Everybody finds a way to shi-i-i-ine, It don't matter that you got, not a lot, so what? They'll have theirs, and you'll have yours, and I'll have mi-i-i-ine. And together we'll be fine.... Because it takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world, yes it does. It takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world!”_

Tears arrived in her eyes and she flung herself at me. “Lucy!” she wailed.

            I started to cry, too. “I’m really happy you’re okay.”

            When she was done squeezing the life out of me, not that that was at all bad, she loosened her grip on me and said, “How bad was it?”

            “How bad was what?” I said.

            “Being with Captain Hook? What did he do to you?” she asked, sounding extremely worried.

            I laughed. “What he did to me was entirely consensual. He’s, um, my boyfriend.”

            She gaped at me. “Your _boyfriend_?”

            I smiled and nodded. “He’s really good to me, which is what matters, right?”

            “He’s _good_ to you?” she reacted.

            “Yeah,” I replied. “D-do you have a clue what Peter is going to do with him?”  
            “They’re going to attack the ship and kill everyone,” she said nervously.

            The crew would know when to go to battle if the Lost Boys started it. I didn’t care if the pirates killed anyone. As long as James lived. I could not and would not lose him. “He’s not on the ship,” I said.

            “In that case, he’ll come to a dead ship and meet his doom,” she murmured.

            I gave her my bound hands. “Cut me loose. We’re going to stop them.”

            “You can’t!” she protested. “They’ll hurt you and we just got reunited!”

            I could take them down without killing them. “If I go, I’ll see that _no one_ dies tonight. C’mon.”

            “But Lucy!” she protested.

            “You don’t have to come,” I groaned. “I’ll be back within the hour, okay?”

            “If not?”

            If not, I’d have to be dead. I could handle this. “If not, when you go back to Philadelphia, every penny I have is yours.”

            She scoffed. “What am I going to do with your money?”

            “Nothing,” I said. “So I’ll be back.” I exposed my hands again and she went to get a hunting knife. She cut the first knot open and they broke off. When I stood up, she hugged me and said, “You’re coming back alive.”

            “I will.”

            She walked me out of the tree, holding my hand as tight as her little hand could. _I’ll come out alive_ , I kept repeating in my head. _I’ll come out alive._ If Ella hadn’t touched me like that, I wouldn’t worry at all. I was worried a little. Not enough to chicken out. As a member of the crew of the Jolly Roger, I was going to take part in a really important battle. I gave my sister a hug. “Bye,” I whispered. And then I flew above the trees and back to the Jolly Roger, prepared for _a_ clash of some sort. But not an out of control brawl.

 


	11. The Battle

            I floated above the Jolly Roger to find everyone fighting with swords and knives. No guns, which made me happy. I went to James who was at the wheel, looking through the crowd. He saw me and gasped. “Lucy!” he exclaimed.

            “I’m okay,” I said with a smile. “Ella’s okay. Now to stop this battle.”  
            Peter flew up to where we were and brandished his sword in James’s direction. James reacted by whipping his out. Before I could break them up, I felt something stroke my back. I swiftly turned to find Uncle Rick holding his sword. “How about we go into the woods where no one will hear?”

            My face burned in rage. I took his sword from him and threatened him with it. “You bastard! I’ll kill you before you lay another hand on me.”

            He smirked. “You wouldn’t. You’re too soft.”

            I heard Smee scream. To get him to lay off, I kicked Uncle Rick in the nuts and he fell to the floor. I saw Smee about to jump off the ship with a full treasure chest under his arm. I poked him with my sword and he turned. “M-M-Miss Byrd—“

            “You’re in this crew. You’ll fight.” I gave him my sword and exchanged for the treasure. I then threw it into the hallway that led to our room and closed the door. Uncle Rick was still writing in pain. I found some rope on the floor and tied his hands and legs together. When he resisted, I kicked him again. That really hurt him. When I was done, one of the twins approached me with a club. I said, “Hey, kid,” I whipped out my phone and opened the talking app. It said for me, _sound familiar?_

            His eyes widened and he said, “W-we’re sorry, b-but we can’t retreat without Peter’s permission.”

            I knelt to his size. “Yes, you can. All of you can leave if you want to. Do you want to?”

            He solemnly nodded.

            “Go. Get your brother and whoever you can and go.” I kissed his forehead. “Don’t take any more crap from Peter.”

            He scurried into the fighting crowd. I felt something sting me. Peter’s knife hit my arm and left a cut a little above my elbow. It only stung but it bled. James saw and then looked at Peter. I watched his eyes turn red as he growled like an aggressive feral animal, “An eye for an eye, Pan, an eye for an eye!” He held him against the edge of the ship and brought his hook to claw his neck. Before anything happened between them and me, I fell to the floor. Uncle Rick had escaped. I screamed and James released Peter. I heard splashes in the water and Peter looked. He called, “Where are you guys going?”

            James pried Uncle Rick off me. They fought physically because James dropped his sword. I grabbed it and threatened Peter with it. “Beat it, Peter. They’re not taking your shit anymore. You’re a tyrant. Escape while you can.”

            “Never,” he hissed.

He tried to push me but I was stronger. “I’m sparing your life right now, Peter Pan. Flee.”

“Lucy!” I heard. Ella was flying towards us. The crew, whom I didn’t pay attention to as the Lost Boys fled, loaded their guns. “Don’t hurt her!” I hollered, stepping away from Peter.

Peter took the opportunity to grab James and continue their fight. Just when Ella’s feet touched the deck we were on, Uncle Rick grabbed both of us. “We’re going home where it’s _safe,_ ” he hissed.

Ella screamed as he lifted us into the air and I wailed as he brought us out of Neverland against our will, “ _James!”_

 

 

            On the way to London, I screamed and tried to get out of his grip but I didn’t until he dropped a scared silent Ella and me on his bedroom floor. Ella had the strength to get up and Uncle Rick hissed, “You go away and tell _no one_ a _thing_ about this.”

            She obeyed. I managed to get up and Uncle Rick said after locking the door, “And _you_ , Lucinda Pennington, it’s time for my payment.”

            I wasn’t going to let him touch me every again. That required leaving, though. I didn’t know the way back to Neverland, where I belonged, but I could fly somewhere on Earth. I saw a gun on his nightstand and before he touched me, I grabbed it. I had a clue how to shoot a gun and wasn’t afraid to now. “Two things are going to happen, Richard Pennington,” I hissed. “You will give me your bank account number and let me take everything.”

            He laughed. “You wouldn’t do anything to me.”

            “As long as you do what I say,” I said. Still holding the gun, I found a notepad and pen. I propped the notepad on my knee and barked, “C’mon. Number. Now.”

            He gulped and gave me the number. I put the paper in my pocket and said, “Okay. Number two.” I held the gun to his head. “You will tell everyone I committed suicide by drowning in some lake. And if you touch Ella,” I pressed the gun against his dick. “I’ll even _cook_ it for you.”

            I scribbled a suicide note and put it in his hand. I took the gun in a satchel and flew out the window to start a new life.


	12. The End

            I did nothing but shit for the next few years. Went to Germany, saw a few Blutengel concerts, taught some people English and got money. I got the attention of Chris Pohl after a while and one evening, I found myself backstage after a show with him.

            “I’m from Philadelphia,” I said in German. “Didn’t have much of a life outside school and looking after my sister Ella because my parents didn’t want to.”

            “How did you learn German, Robyn?” he asked. I legally changed my name to Robyn Byrd, dyed my hair Pillarbox Red and wore glasses so if anyone I knew found me, they wouldn’t recognize me. I was convinced James wouldn’t come back.

            I chuckled and replied, “When my mom sobered up to have my sister, she went crazy and forced me and my dad to spend time together. He liked German horror and thriller movies and I just watched them with him because I didn’t have to talk to him. I started memorizing _Das Experiment_ and stuff _,_ and then I found out about Blutengel and started memorizing your songs, and now I’m fluent.”

            He put down his glass of water and said, “Interesting. What made you come to Germany?”

            James never left my thoughts for a minute for the years I spent my new life in. But I never spoke of him. I wanted to now. I don’t know why. Probably because Chris Pohl was a demigod to me. I could confess my sins…even though I didn’t have any. I slouched and said, “To be honest with you, Chris, I ran away.”

            He raised an eyebrow and I continued, “My sister and I were in London for the summer. I graduated high school and I planned to commit suicide before I turned eighteen. I was a selective mute or something because…” I sighed. “My uncle molested me every time I saw him. Told me not to speak of it, so I didn’t speak at all until…” It sounded crazy. I sat up straight and leaned forward a little. “You’re familiar with _Peter Pan_ , aren’t you?”

            He nodded.

            “Well, I’m not mental or anything, but while my sister and I were in Kensington Gardens…he found us and took us to Neverland.”

            He didn’t look at me like I was totally insane but he did express some puzzlement. “You don’t believe me, do you?” I scoffed.

            He shrugged casually. “Some people are convinced I’m a vampire. I’ve met stranger people.”

            I smiled a little. “My sister thought you were a vampire. Still does. When I see your music videos, I can believe it.”

            “So, you were a selective mute until?”

            “Right,” I said. “Um, I left a lover behind. He just happened to be Captain James Hook.”

            “I see,” Chris Pohl said. “And he made you talk?”

            “Coaxed me into it, yeah,” I said.

            “And why are you here now?”

            I sighed. “My uncle somehow got to Neverland and stole my sister and me.” I buried my eyes in my hands and leaned against the table. “Didn’t want to deal with him ever again. So I had him at gunpoint and made him tell everyone I committed suicide so I could get away.” I felt a tear arrive in my eye. “I don’t know if he’ll come back.”

            “Well, Robyn—“

            “Lucy,” I said for the first time since I got my German citizenship and my new name. I looked up at him and continued, “My name is Lucinda Pennington. Lucy. Robyn Byrd was what they called me on the ship because they didn’t need to know how much I knew the Lost Boys.”

            “Well, _Lucy_ ,” he said. “I hope you’ll find him or the next best thing someday.”

            I scoffed with a smile. “There’s nothing better than him.” After a brief silence between us, I added, “It was my eighteenth birthday the first time we _did it_. I set an alarm on my phone and the alarm played _You Will Be a Woman_. Isn’t that funny?”

He smiled. He had fangs. “Was it awkward?”  
“No,” I said. “It was fun.”

The same guy who led me to the green room entered and said in German, “Mr. Pohl, your ride is here.”

Chris Pohl and I stood up at the same time and I said, “Well, thank you _so_ much for talking with me.” I chuckled. “Never thought this would happen.”

We shook hands and he said, “You’re very welcome, Lucy. Maybe our paths will cross again.”

I was debating whether or not to jump off the ferry that was a cheaper way than taxi home. If there was a heaven, I hoped they’d have Blutengel in hell. “Thanks, Chris.”

 

I boarded the ferry alone. It was really late and therefore no one needed their services. I took a seat at the front of the ferry and when it got in motion, I noticed someone whom I hadn’t before. THe motion caused him to jolt and he woke up from a seemingly miles deep sleep. It was too dark for me to get a good look at him, but his voice was incredibly familiar. He said in English, “Hello there.”

He had a bit of a British accent, a kind I heard a few times but especially in one place that I would remember, but all of a sudden forgot. Maybe I was in denial. I couldn’t talk. “Do you speak English, miss?”  
            I nodded. “Yeah, um, I do.” I gave a weak smile. “I, uh, just thought you were…someone I knew.”

“You look familiar to me, too,” he said, crossing the space between us and sitting next to me. I didn’t look at him, though. I was focusing on who I thought he was. “I know you.”  
            “You do?” I said blankly.

“Yes,” he replied. “If I’m not mistaken, your name is Lucinda Pennington.”

I gasped and turned my head. Before I could see him, the stranger grabbed me and smashed his lips against mine, with a certain level of assertiveness and gentleness that I’ve felt before only once, not that I’ve kissed a lot of people. Just when it ended, my eyes met his. They were a shade of blue I’ve seen in only one face before. And this was the same place. “J-James,” I croaked.

“Lucy,” Captain James Hook replied with a ridiculously sexy smirk that only he could manage.

I pulled myself closer to him and leaned my head on his right shoulder. I bumped my forehead on the harness for his hook but it didn’t hurt. I cried years of pain away and then cried to welcome happiness that I regained. He held me tight against his chest and I knew that he wasn’t going to let go until _he_ was ready. When I was done, we exchanged eye contact for a minute and he said, “Lucy, I had been meaning to ask you something before you left. I think now would be the best time before anything else bad happens.”

“What?” I asked.

He reached into his pocket with his functional hand and pulled out a little box. He opened it with his thumb and I could see in the moonlight a ring. “Lucinda Pennington, will you be my wife?”

I was twenty-one and in love. “Yeah,” I replied. “I will.”  
He slid the ring on my finger and we kissed like never before.


End file.
